


Monochrome

by EternalAgape



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Magic Revealed, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Variation of the soulmate AU about seeing color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 13:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalAgape/pseuds/EternalAgape
Summary: Everyone has a soulmate.  At the first touch of your soulmate’s skin, you can see color.  Finally.  That is, if you don’t have magic.If you do have magic, you were born seeing in color.  You have no way of knowing who your soulmate is until they die – until your vision turns monochrome.





	Monochrome

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s be honest, the only reason I wrote this is because there’s never enough shameless angsty soulmate AUs in the world.

_The first touch of a soulmate sparks the smallest amount of magic, just enough to allow for the one who has found their soulmate to finally see in color, bringing vibrancy into the world for the rest of their lives. It is the one experience of magic that is universally accepted;_ treasured _, even. It is the confirmation that one has found their perfect other half._

_Sorcerers, on the other hand, always have access to magic, but it comes at a cost. For sorcerers, the touch of a soulmate changes nothing. Instead, it is the death of their soulmate that confirms that they have found their other half, only too late. Their vision fades to the pitiful monochrome palette of someone who had found their soulmate and would never be able to have them._

***

For Arthur, that first touch – his hand grasping Merlin’s bony wrist after the idiot had tried to take a swing at him – was all he needed to _know_. That one touch caused his vision to swim, colors spreading from his view of Merlin’s mess of black hair outwards until he could see _everything_.

He gasped softly, shakily; it was nothing more than a small intake of breath that nobody but the two of them could hear. This rude boy, this… _Merlin_ …was his soulmate?

Arthur spun the man around, taking a good look at his face, his eyes that surely must be _blue_ since they matched the clear sky above – but there was no reaction. No comprehension, no wonder, none of the awe or gratefulness that Arthur was feeling. Nothing.

Before, Arthur had been moderately annoyed; a commoner had dared to try and _hit_ him? Granted, he had been acting a bit rudely, but he was the _prince_! He was…well, if not allowed to act that way, then people usually turned a blind eye to it. For a commoner to stand up to him and call him out on his behavior? It was more of a slap in the face than any punch could ever be.

Now, though, Arthur was _furious_. He didn’t know who or what he was angry with. The rage stemmed from deep in his belly, driven by the unfairness of being without a willing soulmate or even a soulmate at all, if the man’s lack of reaction was anything to go by.

That certainly happened to some people, just not to _princes_. Arthur was a _prince_ : he deserved the best, and _only_ the best. The best was a soulmate, his perfect other half.

And this…this _Merlin_ was taking that away from him.

It was evident that Merlin was his soulmate, what with Arthur’s newly acquired ability to see the wondrous colors that enveloped everything around him. It was also evident that Merlin was having no such experience. He saw Arthur no differently, if his “What, finally realized your behavior isn’t even worthy of the king himself?” was anything to go by.

Arthur could find no words to respond. Everything he wanted to say wouldn’t make sense to this person, this man who was his soulmate but also _not_. He wanted to say, “It’s you.” He wanted to say, “Your eyes are so _blue_.” He _wanted_ to say, “How dare I not be _your_ soulmate?”

But his lips were unable to form any of these words. Instead, he allowed his father’s knights to defend him, one of them loudly exclaiming, “How dare you address Prince Arthur that way?!”

Arthur found it oddly satisfying as he watched the man – _Merlin_ , his mind reminded him, _your soulmate_ – blanch at the title, his face paling to a pasty alabaster that _~~dammit why was it so attractive~~ _caused Arthur to smirk.

The knights took it upon themselves to collect the errant man – _errant soulmate_ – and deposit him in the dungeons, far below Arthur’s own rooms.

His rooms that were now red and gold and brown wood and light and brightness – things that he couldn’t detect mere hours ago all because some _damn commoner_ decided to go and be his soulmate but not let Arthur be his own.

So, yes: Arthur was beyond annoyed and had crossed the threshold into absolutely _furious,_ and if he saw Merlin _ever again_ , he would be certain to stay _very far away_ from him.

Arthur knew that was a lie, though. The prince had little to no self-restraint and an irresistible desire to stay close to his infuriating soulmate. Instead, he would settle for making Merlin’s life a living hell, which became all too simple when his father assigned the man to be his _manservant_ of all things.

It was pure torture: seeing Merlin every day, his bright blue eyes and that damned smile, watching as he fulfilled his duties and enchanted all those around him. Arthur was Merlin’s, completely besotted and devoted to the idiot manservant, but Merlin would never be _his_.

And damn it, if Arthur didn’t love him anyways.

***

Magic came at a cost, a _cruel_ cost. Sure, Merlin could move objects, lift a cow with barely a thought, even end the kingdom’s drought, but…was all that worth not knowing who his soulmate was until their final moments? Until his soulmate was dead, his vision turning from vibrant color to dull monochrome?

Merlin wasn’t so sure.

And as he entered Camelot for the first time, watching as a man was executed for simply having magic, he was even less sure that it was worth it.

Then, he met the prat. Oh, _apologies_ _my lord_ , the _royal_ prat. _Then_ , he got saddled with the duties of being the royal prat’s manservant. And _then_ , of all the stupid things Merlin could have done, he fell in love with the royal prat.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

For years, Merlin served at Arthur’s side, watching him and protecting him and _loving_ him with every fiber of his magical being. There were times he thought about telling Arthur what he felt: the day he said goodbye as he was going to his death, for example, so that Arthur could live. He nearly said it, three words that would be so simple to utter but had the power to change everything.

He couldn’t, though. Arthur had a soulmate out there somewhere, a person who would complete him perfectly in a way that Merlin would never be able to. Merlin could never interfere with that; he refused to. Arthur deserved that, the utter happiness that only his soulmate could bring.

So Merlin kept his mouth firmly shut. He already had one secret that he would be taking to his grave; why not a second?

(Even if the second secret was slowly killing him from the inside out.)

***

…and he was doing so well at keeping that secret until Arthur was mortally injured, and then all Merlin could think about was that he was too late and so _utterly blind_.

His immediate response was denial: No. No no no _nononono-_

Merlin’s vision was losing color, first from the very edges of the now-black leaves on the trees, slowly pulling into the center where Arthur’s pale face was becoming paler and paler and his blue eyes were becoming glassy and lifeless – becoming _gray_.

Arthur was dying.

His _soulmate_ was dying.

For the first time, Merlin wished he didn’t have magic. He wished he had known earlier that Arthur was his soulmate – then, perhaps, he might have been brave enough to tell him, “I love you.”

It had slipped out, Merlin’s mouth forming the words before he could even think about what he was saying. Merlin wasn’t quite sure how far gone Arthur was, but the prince was still conscious enough to take a shuttering breath and say, “You tell me this _now_ , you idiot?”

And Merlin didn’t quite know what to do with that. After all, Arthur would have known if Merlin were _his_ soulmate. He had helped Arthur dress and wash daily, for goodness’ sake! Arthur would have done something, _said_ something, something like-

“Stupid fucking soulmate, damn _you_ -” Arthur swore before he tensed with a wave of sharp pain.

Then it was Merlin’s turn to gasp softly, just a tiny breath of air, yet it still sounded too loud in the silence of impending death. “ _Arthur_ …” he murmured, the prince’s name a plea – for what, Merlin couldn’t express.

“You didn’t tell me,” Arthur stated.

“I didn’t _know_ ,” Merlin moaned, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “ _I didn’t know_ , or I might have…” Merlin didn’t know _what_ he might have done. Held Arthur a little closer, perhaps, just as he was doing now. Lingered a moment as Arthur drifted off to sleep each evening to see the pure look of contentment that overtook his face in the first moments of dreaming. Maybe…

Merlin pressed a feather-light kiss to Arthur’s forehead.

“You didn’t know?” Arthur echoed. “How could…” Merlin looked away. This was the question he had never wanted to answer, the explanation he prayed would never be needed. “The first day. You called me _friend_. I touched you and…your eyes were so _blue_ ,” Arthur recalled shakily.

Merlin took a deep breath before looking back into Arthur’s eyes, allowing the prince to see that sky blue once more. “Your eyes were blue even before that,” Merlin told him. “They were blue from across the courtyard.” Arthur didn’t seem to understand the gravity of what Merlin was telling him. “I’ve always known what blue looks like. Things have always been like this for me. _I didn’t know_.” Until now, that is, Merlin was harshly reminded as the color seeped further from Arthur’s pallid face.

Merlin could see the exact moment Arthur finally realized what Merlin was saying. Arthur shook his head weakly, in denial of what was right in front of him. “No,” he muttered angrily. “You can’t have…”

“I wish I didn’t. I’m _sorry_ , Arthur.” And without looking away from Arthur’s eyes, knowing there was no telling how few precious minutes he had left to look at that last bit of gray-blue, Merlin raised a hand towards the fire and spun a dragon from the golden flames.

Arthur was the only one brave enough to glance away, seeing the proof of both of Merlin’s statements in the fire. “No,” he denied again.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. There wasn’t much else he _could_ say except, “ _I love you_. I couldn’t tell you because…who am I next to you, next to the prince of Camelot? I promised to serve you. It was my _destiny_ to serve you. I couldn’t say anything, and… _I didn’t know_.”

“And now you do,” Arthur said brokenly, finally looking back at Merlin’s face and his sky-blue eyes. “You do. That’s why you’re telling me this. I won’t make it, will I?” Merlin didn’t have the heart to confirm what they both knew to be true. “You’ve never…you’ve always had color. I’m sorry that I’m taking it away.” Arthur took another rattling breath, his eyes growing sorrowful. His hand blindly felt for Merlin’s, finally grasping it and squeezing tightly. “I love you. I was furious at you for so long that you were my soulmate and I wasn’t yours, but still, I _loved_ you every single moment. Always. _Thank you, Merlin._ ”

It was the ‘thank you’ that broke Merlin, the earnest and humbled tone coming from the proud prince that shattered Merlin into a thousand pieces and caused him to turn his head to the sky and _scream_. He pulled Arthur to his chest impossibly tightly, feeling momentarily guilty as Arthur let out a pained cry, but Merlin did not have the logical thought to loosen his hold. He wouldn’t let go. He _couldn’t_ let go.

And then his tears came, unbidden and unrestricted; there was no reason to hide them since nobody else was there to watch. Merlin couldn’t see their glistening shade of gold; the last bit of color he had was the pale water blue of Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur, though, was entranced as the enchantingly beautiful tears rolled from Merlin’s cheeks and fell onto his own, golden as a summer sun. Merlin’s tears continued, streaming across both of their cheeks and finally dripping onto Arthur’s chest, seeping into the wound that was slowly claiming his life – taking him away from his Merlin, away from his _soulmate_.

Merlin had wished he didn’t have magic – he wished that he reacted to soulmate magic the same way that Arthur did, wished he could have known sooner that Arthur was his other half, wished he could just _save_ Arthur with his cursed powers that had kept them apart for so long.

And it seemed that he could.

Merlin, powerful and ever humble, reacted to soulmate magic differently than most sorcerers: where sorcerers’ saw the end of their soulmate magic with their soulmate’s death, Arthur’s death became a fiery spark for Merlin’s rage, igniting the fuel that was his heartbreak, sorrow, and eternal longing. Merlin’s emotions all swirled together, growing exponentially more forceful as they shaped his magic, lending themselves to the impossibility of healing one who was too far gone from life.

Arthur’s breathing grew stronger, the pain dimming in his body. He gripped Merlin’s rough tunic, dirty and sticky with Arthur’s blood. “Merlin,” he whispered amidst his soulmate’s screams, Merlin’s pleas for whoever was watching to please just _leave his soulmate alone, take me instead, please just let him stay_. “Merlin, no, _look_ ,” Arthur begged, his fingers locked like thorns in Merlin’s shirt. “ _Merlin_ ,” he said once more with all the force of a royal order.

Had Merlin ever listened to one of those?

He did this time, though, and for that, Arthur was grateful. Merlin’s head jerked, as if pulled by the invisible force of the prince’s words. Merlin’s golden eyes – _golden,_ Arthur noted, not blue – met Arthur’s – eyes that were _alive_ and _bright blue again_.

Merlin could do nothing but sob.

Arthur, stronger now than he had felt in months or maybe even years, wrapped his arms around Merlin’s neck, holding him through the shaking and the pouring tears that were transparent once more. He whispered soft words to his nearly incoherent idiot manservant – his idiot _soulmate_ – as they clung to each other as if their lives depended on it.

And for once, they didn’t. They were able to simply hold each other close with the knowledge that they had more time, not the borrowed time only Merlin had known about. There was no more of the terrifying waiting and watching as Mordred lingered in the back of his thoughts, a dark shadow that loomed in the near future just biding his time before he took Arthur away from him.

All those terrifying years – Merlin had known that Arthur’s death would hit him hard. He hadn’t known it would hit him _this_ hard. How could he have imagined losing his _soulmate_?

“It’s alright now,” Arthur murmured, rubbing his hand in gentle circles on Merlin’s quivering back. “You…I don’t know how, but you _saved_ me. I’m here, Merlin. I’m…”

“I hate it, I _hate it_!” Merlin yelled into Arthur’s shoulder. “If I didn’t have this stupid magic, this _curse,_ I would have told you…I would have known…”

“If you didn’t have this _gift_ ,” Arthur countered, “I’d be _dead_.”

Merlin froze, his mind processing what Arthur had said. Arthur…wasn’t mad. He thought Merlin’s magic was a _gift_. Arthur was alive _._

Arthur was _alive._

And then they were a fury of scrabbling hands and searching lips, both giving in to what they had each waited an eternity for, an impossibility they had both reluctantly accepted: one believing he was an unmatched soulmate and one believing he was pining alone, his affections and devotion unrequited.

Merlin was in _heaven._ He had resigned himself to never meeting his soulmate – never knowing who his other half was until his vision turned dim and his soulmate was gone forever. He had hoped they would never meet so he would never need to experience the aching loss of what could have been.

Perhaps even worse that Arthur’s near-death, if it were possible, were the many years Merlin had spent longing for Arthur’s love, the touch of his hands in some way other than a friendly punch to the arm or a clap on the shoulder. Now, those hands were running down his sides, one of them grazing the skin underneath his tunic and sending shivers down his spine. Fingers were splayed on his stomach, the touch gentle as if _Merlin_ were the one who had almost died and could break at any second.

And grounding him through all these feelings was the feather-like meeting of their lips, reminding Merlin that things were somehow going to be alright, and against all odds, Arthur was still _here_. Merlin sighed happily into the kiss, tears forming again.

Arthur pulled away slightly, just far enough so that he could speak clearly. He leaned his forehead against Merlin’s before saying, “Don’t cry, love. I’m _here,_ and I’m not going anywhere.”

A laugh bubbled up through Merlin’s tears, coming out as a choked sob. “That’s exactly it, though. I’m _happy_. Things weren’t supposed to end this way, but they did, and I’m just…” Merlin didn’t have the words to express his elation, so he settled for crushing his lips to Arthur’s again. “ _I love you,_ ” Merlin said a moment later, feeling lighter than he had since the first time he stepped into Camelot.

There was no fear, no dark cloud stalking them, no waiting for Arthur’s death, no hating his magic and imagining who could possibly be stuck with a soulmate like him. There was no more sitting by, pining for Arthur with an invisible barrier between them.

There was just the two of them, two halves of the same coin – two soulmates in love in full color.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Leave a comment with your favorite part. :)


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